ALBUM REVIEW: Grant Lee-Phillips Confronts the World Outside on ‘All That You Can Dream’

Grant-Lee Phillips seems a bit torn and frayed on All That You Can Dream, which comes as no surprise. Along with so many others, the Nashville-based troubadour has been juggling a host of challenges, from the pandemic to toxic politics to family matters, in the process trying to conduct a life that makes sense in an unreliable world. However familiar the subject matter, his thoughtful reflections and calm determination to keep on pushing make this lovely album feel like a reassuring visit from a good friend.

Photo by Denise Siegel-Phillips

From his days as leader of the band Grant Lee Buffalo in the ’90s through a solo career now in its third decade, Phillips has become more economical in his mode of expression, stripping the music down to essentials. All That You Can Dream is wonderfully understated chamber-folk shaped by his weary yet graceful voice and insightful songs.

Intensely personal and thoroughly relatable at once, the album avoids grand gestures in documenting a time of relentless change. On the leadoff track, “A Sudden Place,” Phillips declares it’s a “wonder we ain’t hurled into space / How folks hang on / I’ll never know,” a sentiment echoed by “Cannot Trust the Ground,” where he ruefully sings, “I can’t believe what’s come to pass as normal.” Phillips adds, “Can’t imagine how it feels to be thirteen,” when his daughter begins another day of remote learning.

The anguished “Cruel Trick” evokes the strangeness of encountering empty streets and seeing his guitar sit untouched in its case, but finds solace in the company of loved ones (“We took a long drive through the country / To gather some air”), while the toe-tapping “Remember This” sweetly celebrates unconditional familial love.

Looking at recent history, particularly the Jan. 6 insurrection, he won’t forgive or forget. On the wonderful “Rats in a Barrel,” his metaphor for rioters who stormed the Capitol, Phillips disdainfully puzzles over how people “can still get conned / Believing what some liar has said.” Elsewhere, “Cut to the Ending” calls out “spineless enablers” who normalize the ugliness of treason, and “Peace Is a Delicate Thing” laments “the violence of lies.”

Though various collaborators, including his usual trusty rhythm section of bassist Jennifer Condos and drummer Jay Bellerose, tracked their parts separately at home, Phillips played most instruments himself and added lovely harmonies to his lead vocals. All That You Can Dream suggests a clandestine project recorded quietly at night after everyone else has gone to bed.

Phillips is not by nature a topical singer, but as he notes at one point, “You can’t hide … From the world outside.” A decade from now, this will be a vivid reminder of a bizarre time.

All That You Can Dream is out May 20 on Yep Roc Records.